José Saramago - The Stone Raft

The first village they passed through had not been completely aban doned. Some of the elderly had reassured their worried children and relatives that dying for the sake of dying was preferable to dying of hunger or some malignant disease, if a person has been so gloriously chosen to die along with the whole of his world, be he a Wagnerian hero or not, he will accede to that sublime Valhalla to which all great catastrophes lead. Elderly Galicians and Portuguese, for they belong to the same race, know nothing about such matters, but for some strange reason were capable of saying, I'm staying put, you can leave if you're frightened, and this doesn't mean that they felt all that courageous, simply that at this point in their lives they have finally come to realize that courage and fear are the two pans on the scale that oscillate while the pointer remains still, paralyzed by amazement at the useless invention of emotions and feelings.

As the wagon passed through the village, curiosity, which is probably the last human trait to disappear, brought the elderly out in the road, they waved slowly, and it was as if they were bidding themselves good-bye. Then José Anaiço suggested that it would be wise to seize this opportunity to get some sleep by making use of one of the empty houses, here or in some other village, or in some deserted spot, they were certain to find beds and greater comfort than in the wagon, but Maria Guavaira announced that she would never set foot in a strange house without the owner's consent, some people have such scruples, while others if they see a locked window smash it in and then say, It was all for the best, and whether it is for their own good or that of someone else, there will always be some doubt about the first and ultimate motive. José Anaiço regretted having made the suggestion, not because it was a bad one, but because it was absurd, Maria Guavaira's words were enough to define a code of self-respect, Try to be self-sufficient as far as you can, then confide in someone deserving of your trust, better still if this is someone deserving of you. As matters stand, these five appear to deserve one another, in every sense, so let them stay in the wagon, eat their omelettes, talk about the journey they have made so far and the journey that lies ahead of them. Maria Guavaira will reinforce the practical driving lessons she has given with a little theory, beneath a tree the horse goes on munching its ration of hay, the dog satisfies itself on this occasion with domestic provisions, it prowls around sniffing and startling the nightjars. It has stopped raining. A lantern illuminates the inside of the wagon, anyone passing this way would say, Look, a theater, they are certainly characters but not actors.

When Maria Guavaira finally succeeds in contacting the asylum in La Coruña by telephone tomorrow, she will be told that her mother and the other inmates have already been transferred inland, And how is she, As mad as ever, but this response could refer to anyone. They will continue their journey until the land becomes populated once more. There they will wait.

The Portuguese government of national salvation was formed and got down to business without delay, the Prime Minister himself had appeared on television and uttered a phrase that will certainly go down in history, words like Blood, sweat, and tears, or, Burying the dead and cherishing the living, or, Honor your country for your country is relying on you, or, The sacrifice of our martyrs will sow the seed of future harvests. In this instance, and bearing in mind the peculiar circumstances of the situation, the Prime Minister thought it best simply to say, Sons of Portugal, Daughters of Portugal, salvation lies in retreat.

But to find accommodation deep in the interior for the millions of people who live along the coastal strip was a task of such extreme complexity that no one had the presumption, absurd to say the least, to put forward a national plan of evacuation, comprehensive and capable of integrating local initiatives. With regard, for example, to the city and region of Lisbon, both the initial analysis of the situation and the subsequently adopted measures started from an assumption, both objective and subjective, that could be summed up as follows, The great majority, let us be frank, the overwhelming majority of Lisbon's inhabitants were not born there, and those who were are linked to the others by family ties. The consequences of this fact are broad and decisive, the first being that both the former and the latter will have to betake themselves to their places of origin, where many still have relatives, with some of whom they may have lost touch through var ious circumstances, let them take advantage of this enforced opportunity to restore harmony to their families, healing old wounds, patching up quarrels caused by contentious inheritances and unfair allocations that resulted in brawling and cursing. The great misfortune that has befallen us will have the merit of bringing hearts together again. The second consequence, which naturally stems from the first, concerns the problem of feeding the people evacuated. For here too, obviating the need for state intervention, the extended family will play a crucial role, speaking quantitatively, one could express this with a macroeconomic updating of the old saying, Three can eat as cheaply as two, the well-known arithmetic of resignation in any family where a child is expected, now one can say with even greater authority, Ten million can eat as cheaply as five, and with a quiet smile, A nation is nothing but a great big family.

Those living on their own, whether bereft of family or merely misanthropic, would be without recourse, but even they would not be excluded automatically from society, one has to have confidence in spontaneous solidarity, in that irrepressible love for one's neighbor that manifests itself on so many occasions, take train journeys, for example, especially in the second-class compartments, when the moment comes to open the basket of provisions, the mother of the family never forgets to offer some food to the other passengers occupying the nearby seats, Would you care for something to eat, if someone accepts she does not mind, even though she may be counting on a polite chorus of refusals, Not for me, thank you, but do enjoy your meal. The most awkward problem will be that of accommodation, it is one thing to offer someone a fish cake and a glass of wine, but it is quite a different matter to have to give up half of the bed we are sleeping in, but if we can get it into the heads of people that these solitary and abandoned people are reincarnations of Our Lord, as when He wandered the world disguised as a beggar in order to test the generosity of mankind, then someone will always find them a cupboard under the stairs, a corner in the attic, or, in rustic terms, a loft and a bundle of straw. This time God, however He may multiply Himself, will be treated as someone responsible for creating humanity deserves to be treated.

We have spoken of Lisbon in terms differing only quantitatively from those we could have used in speaking of Oporto or Coimbra, or of Setúbal and Aveiro, of Viana or Figueira, without forgetting those innumerable little towns and villages one finds everywhere, although in some cases the perplexing question arises of knowing where those people must go who live in the exact place where they were born, or those who, living somewhere on the coast, were born somewhere else on the coast. After these difficulties had been discussed by the cabinet ministers, their spokesman brought the reply, The government is confident that private initiative will find a solution, perhaps something truly original that will ultimately benefit everyone, to those problems not covered by the national program for the evacuation and resettlement of the population. Having been thus authorized from on high to put aside these individual destinies, we shall simply mention, with regard to Oporto, the case of Joaquim Sassa's employers and colleagues. Suffice it to say that if he, mindful of discipline and professional integrity, had rushed from the Galician mountains at the drop of a hat, abandoning love and friends to fate, he would have found his office closed and a notice on the door with the latest instructions from the management, Employees returning from vacation should report for work at our new premises at Peñafiel, where we hope to continue to satisfy the needs of our esteemed clients. And Joana Carda's cousins, the ones from Ereira, now find themselves in Coimbra, at the home of an abandoned cousin, who was not exactly overjoyed to see them, it stands to reason, he is the one who is aggrieved, after all, he still had a glimmer of hope, he thought that his cousins had gone ahead to prepare the ground for the returning fugitive, but when nothing happened he asked them, And what about Joana, his cousins confessed sorrowfully, We don't know, She was there in our house, but she disappeared even before the commotion began, we heard no more from her, what the cousin knows about the rest of the story she cautiously keeps to herself, for if he was astonished at what little he was told, what would he say if he were to learn everything.